Alarums And Portents

All right, so Obama won. Now what? Will he see his re-election as a mandate to install a Marxist dictatorship? Probably not, though I’m sure many of his inner circle, and likely Obama himself, fervently desire such an outcome. Nonetheless, whatever the next four years holds for the country, one thing is clear: no one knows what will happen, or when, or why. The future, as always, is cloudy. Except, of course, to Waltradamus.


The Bear will rise

As mischief heightens

Red star at night

Whose passage frightens


The turbaned king

With threats and bluster

The pointed star

Will stand to muster


The sainted one

Now re-anointed

Vows swift revenge

On those appointed


The Eastern state

Of ancient being

With open eyes

Bent not on seeing


The Kingly states

Invite the turban

Night riders flit

To rid the vermin


Electrons flee

As watts and joules

Rush from the storm

Amid wind howls


The workers lie

Abed at night

To look for work

At dawn’s first light


At mid-term dance

That shakes the walls

The upper chamber

Sways and falls


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